


The Inherited War

by Ash_Cassidy97



Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 04:29:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7299601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ash_Cassidy97/pseuds/Ash_Cassidy97
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The War did not end with Kel. It ended with a mage, one who feared the King of Tortall, and brought ruin to all who opposed her will. It started with a glass of water, a vow, and treason.</p>
<p>In other words, I got curious what happens under Jon’s watch.</p>
<p>Write of Subject to Change</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Subject to Change](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4344983) by [Ash_Cassidy97](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ash_Cassidy97/pseuds/Ash_Cassidy97). 



“Hi, I’ll take the lemonade,” Raoul said cheerfully to the busboy.

 

The boy passed Raoul the glass of water. Raoul starred, but the boy jerked a thumb at a sign that read in Common, “We are out of lemonade. The boss couldn’t piss fast enough. Water will be served instead.”

 

“Thank you,” the knight murmured, not wanting to start an argument.

 

The lad nodded and went back to wiping the glasses.

 

“Don’t ya think that it would be better if you wiped the glasses with a clean rug?”

 

“I think the customers return for the taste of a thousand year old dirt. It has a very distinctive flavor,” the lad said durmerly.

 

“I don’t doubt it,” the man muttered into his glass.

 

“Anything else I can get for you, your lordship?” the lad asked, slightly louder in the almost empty tavern. Three rushers sat in the back.

 

“I was gonna ask you if you knew anything about the coles.” Raoul swirled his water carelessly.

 

“Were you?” the knight nodded. “Huh.” The three rushers ran for it. “Are you going to get that?” The knight sighed heavily and darted out of the tavern.

 

The boy continued to clean glasses with a dirty rag. Not his problem, and it was being taken care of anyway.

 

Raoul of Goldenlake was back the next day. The boy grabbed a somewhat cleaner glass. “Water?” he asked. Raoul nodded. The lad slid the glass to the knight.

 

“Thank you,” Raoul said.

 

“Do not mention it.” 

 

The boy passed out drinks to other folk, but they avoided the bar, where the knight sat. Raoul wasn’t dressed to the lordly nines, but commoners could spot a royal in a heartbeat. They were just waiting for somebody to let it slip to the nobles, and cut their throat.

 

The boy pulled out a  book, and promptly ignored the noble. He turned a page carefully.

 

“Good read?” Raoul asked. The boy raised his eyebrows, and went back to the book. “What’s it about?” The boy glared at him, but didn’t bother to answer. All Raoul could see was that the book was written in Ancient Runes.

 

“Last call,” the boy yelled over the now crowded bar. The sooner he could kick the knight out, the better.

 

“Well, that’s rude.” Raoul knocked back his water, but forked his glass back over to the lad. “Can I at least know your name?”

 

“Why?”

 

“It’s called polite behavior.”

 

“Alec,” the boy responded. He was tall for his age, and stick thin with Scanran features. He had a scar that grazed his chin, and wore thin clothes that covered all of his skin apart from his head and neck. Raoul shook his hand.

 

“Raoul.” There wasn’t a title said, but there was always a title attached.

 

Alec continued to hand out drinks. Raoul left, shaking off the weirdness of the encounter. He’d been back from the front for three days, and already trouble was brewing in Corus.

 

Three days later, he was back again.

 

Alec poured the water. “I thought our water was shit.”

 

“Well, the lemonade is made from piss.”

 

“I am not going to be the Knight Commander’s pet informer,” Alec whispered. “And I sure as hell aren’t gonna be his lap-pet.”

 

“I wasn’t asking you to be.” The knight looked horrified at the notion.

 

“Good.” Alec would cut a man before he went near that road.

 

“I would never ask that of anybody.”

 

“Alright. Calm down, your lordship.”

 

“ What are you doing in Corus?”

 

“Serving assholes water. Anything else?”

 

“Take it easy. I’m just trying to be friendly.”

 

“I’ve only been in ya fair city for a week, ya lordship, and folk here are much too friendly for my like.”

 

“You’ve only been here a week lad, and already have a job?” Raoul’s eyes had gentled a bit.

 

Alec didn’t appreciate it in the least. “And you’re already being a nuisance.”

 

“My apologies,” the man said lightly. “Thanks for the water.”

 

Alec was wearing the same clothes from the days before: canvas jacket and pants, worn boots and an over jacket with gloves. He hadn’t had time to wash and it was winter in Corus. All of the clothes were stained, patched, and had been pieced back together with tidy stitches.

 

Raoul was dressed in equally plain clothes, but they were less banged up.

 

Raoul left.

 

It would be four days until he went back to the bar. Unfortunately it would only be two before some nutter tried to kill the King’s granddaughter.

 

Alec overheard it as he was crossing the street to Will’s Tavern. A few gang members were talking loudly about kidnapping the kid, and holding the Royals for everything they got. Alec swore softly and deadly under his breath. He didn’t need these problems. He needed a damn break.

 

Move to Corus, they said. It will be peaceful, they said. ‘Bullshit’ is what they actually said.

 

Alec bit his lip hard. It bled weakly. The question was a matter of duty and honor, his favorite topics. Fuck. It wasn’t even a question to him. He knew his damn duty so fuck you.

 

Alec sighed, and whistled through his teeth for a second. He allowed himself to feel bad one second, and then moved on.

 

He had picked up several knives, and hidden them on his person. He checked once to make sure that all skin that could be covered was covered. He knew where the thieves were going to be. William’s Tavern was the kind of place where people talked openly of their issues with Royalty. It was a swell place, really.

 

“Lads, can we all play nice here?” Alec asked pointlessly. One rusher tried to knife him in the stomach. Alec threw at man into a table, and then the other three into a wall. “I really do not want to hurt anybody for being stupid.”

 

“We didn’t hurt nobody,” one of the men protested.

 

“Yeah, but you were going to-so,” Alec said kindly, throwing the fourth man into the wall. The babe laid on a blanket in the corner. Alec tensed slightly, but all the thieves were knocked out. It turns out his training wasn’t for naught after all.

 

“Easy, love,” he murmured to the squealing girl. “There’s a girl.” He picked the babe up, cradling her in his arms. “I’m jus gonna return ya to ya rich dada, and be on my way. That’s a girl. Shh.” He jiggled the child a little bit to get her to settle.

 

If Alec tended for irony, he’d drop the kid on Johnny’s doorstop and be on his way. Unfortunately, he had to be pragmatic of all things.

 

He stole through the palace walkways, and all the way up to the front door of the Prince’s rooms. He had thrown a scarf around his head. It was the best he could do in such a limited time. It was hard enough to even walk through the palace, even though the place was deserted. He had taken the path covered in cobwebs and dust.

 

He knocked twice on the knight’s door. It swung open, accompanied with a drawn sword and a stern face. Alec nearly smirked. It’s not like somebody never stuck a sword in his face before.

 

“Easy there, your majesty. I figured you would want this returned.” Alec  thrust the baby at Roald. He accepted the child. “The men who attempted the crime have been dealt with. The Rogue wishes you well.”

 

Alec hastily left, before the prince could yell.

 

He knew that George Cooper was the Rogue, and hopefully, Black God willing, Roald and his father would buy it. Cooper hadn’t appointed another Rogue, and it would be time before Cooper couldn’t contradict Alec. Hell, Alec could blame this whole mess on Cooper’s shoulders. If he had half a brain (literally he would have to be missing half a brain to do it), he would go straight to Georgie and tell him that’s he’s a stupid bastard, and to start getting the Rogue in order.

 

When Cooper left to become the Whispering Man, he left a mess because thieves became disorganized and greedy. He’d left Alec a mess to clean up after in other words. Alec hadn’t been in the city long, but Will’s Tavern was a den of murderers, scumbags, and all around not nice folk.

 

“Lad, do you know about something to do with a person breaking into the palace and stealing a baby?” Raoul asked Alec the very next day.

 

“Your lordship, I know absolutely nothing of the sort.” Alec ducked his head. His face was smudged with dirt. Lord Raoul probably wouldn’t notice the bruise.

 

“And the bruise?”

 

“I whacked my head off the bar table, bending to reach for a glass.”

 

“Huh.” Raoul stared at the boy for a long moment. “Thank you,” the big knight said at last. “For the water.”

 

“It’s only well water and dirt, your lordship,” Alec murmured.

 

“I know.” The knight smiled. He vowed to keep a closer watch on the lad. “Can I ask why at least?”

 

“Why I hit my head on that night?” Lord Raoul nodded. “Some asshole made a mess and I had to clean it up. I was reaching for a cloth.”

 

“Alright.” The knight decided to let it go for the moment at least. “How long are you staying?”

 

“Not long. Excuse me for a moment.” 

 

Alec hoisted the garbage bin and went out into the alley. There was a bird laying on the ground, with a clearly broken leg. Alec did not scream. He crouched down beside the beast. It whistled darkly at him.

 

“Easy, easy,” the boy said careful to not meet the bird’s eyes.

 

“Alec?” Raoul called, standing back a few feet. The bird snapped its tiny beak at him.

 

“It’s fine, your lordship. He’s just broken his wing.” The bird whistled sharply at the boy, and Raoul started forward slowly. The boy was going to get his fingers bitten off, no matter how crazy he was.

 

“Lad, he’s not your pet.”

 

“Thank you, your lordship for pointing out the obvious. Do you know a vet?”

 

“A what?”

 

“An animal doctor?” Alec looked at the knight as if he was the one who’d clearly lost it.

 

“Daine. Lad, that’s a phoenix. Don’t-” But Alec had already touched the bird, stroking its feathers gently.

 

“I’m aware.” The bird whistled again, more softly this time. “It’s alright.” Alec picked up the bird. “It’s alright,” he said more softly. “Vet?”

 

“Come on then,” Lord Raoul said at last. Alec stood, carefully keeping hold of the phoenix. He slipped the note that had been wrapped around a foot down his shirt.

 

Alec followed the Knight Commander as he led the way through the market and up to the palace. Alec froze as they neared the palace gates.

 

“Your lordship, I couldn’t possible-” he started, but he stopped suddenly.

 

“Lad?”

 

“I can’t, Your Lordship.” Raoul raised his eyebrows, and pushed the smaller male through the palace gates.

 

“I’m not taking you to see the king. Come on, Daine’s in the main palace.” Alec trudged behind the knight, swearing under his breath all the while. Lord Raoul smirked lightly. He reminded Raoul of a tiny redheaded, purple eyed boy.

 

“You really don’t like nobles, do you?”

 

“Nope, y’all are a stuck up bunch of prudes who don’t know shit.”

 

“Don’t hold back on me,” Lord Raoul muttered. “You’ll like Daine.”

 

Alec said nothing. Finally they reached Veralidaine Salmalín’s rooms. Raoul knocked and she opened the door. Raoul pushed his lad into the room, and shut the door behind himself.

 

“Alec found a phoenix,” Lord Raoul explained. Diane's eyes grew wide shock.

 

“Let me see,” Daine gestured at Alec. 

 

Alec watched her warily for a second, but showed her. Alec had been careful to not jostle the immortal, but he still squawked at the unwanted attention.

 

“Alright, come here and put him on the table.” 

 

Alec did as he was bid, and would have left if Raoul hadn’t put a firm hand on his shoulder. Daine washed up, and pulled out her medical supplies. Daine quickly healed the wing, even though the bird protested at every move.

 

“Oh hush,” Diane told him at last. She had splinted the wing to keep it still until the bones solidified. “You did a good job, lad. He says that his name is ‘Scorch’, and that his parents were killed by thieves.”   
  


The phoenix walked up Alec’s arm so it could stand on its shoulder. It brushed his face gently. Scorch nuzzled Alec’s neck. Alec gently soothed his ruffled feathers.

 

“He’s takin’ a likin’ to you,” Diane voiced. “He says that he wants to stay with you.”

 

“I can’t. I have work and-” Raoul squeezed Alec’s shoulder until he shut up.

 

Diane grimaced. “Phoenixes live off of water and bird seed. He will be easy to care for,” she conjuled.

 

Alec nodded finally. They wouldn’t know that phoenixes symbolized the joining of yin and yang. It also symbolized the Shang. They weren’t to know about his shameful past.

 

“Alright,” Alec said at last. “I won’t be staying for long though.”

 

Diane nodded. “Phoenixes are notoriously loyal. He should be able to talk in a few weeks so that you can understand him. Make sure you keep that wing rested, and come back in a week or so. Take care. I’m glad I helped.” She shoved some supplies in Alec’s hands, and showed them out in a quick fashion.

 

“She’s just tired,” Raoul explained. Alec nodded, and stroked his new friend.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Hmm. You really don’t like magic, do you?”

 

“No.” Alec went back to the tavern, and Raoul left to do knightly things, Alec supposed.

The thieves burned down Will’s Tavern that night, proving Alec to be accurate in his predictions about the length of his stay.

 

Alec forced himself out the window with Scorch leading the way. He cut his hands on the glass, It was the second story, and he couldn’t prevent his tumble down the roof and hitting the muddy street. He could hear his ribs crack, but got up anyway. Scorch flapped over his head; he’d broken the splint. Alec grabbed his pack from the ground, and slung it around his back.

 

There’d been nobody staying in the tavern besides Alec and Will. He’d probably helped, Alec thought bitterly.

 

Alec scowled at the burning tavern. There was nothing to do. He knew nobody except a stuck up noble, a magical vet, and a phoenix. He couldn’t turn to any of them, because of pride, among other things. Alec grit his teeth, enough feeling sorry for himself.

 

He trudged off into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

Alec kept to the rooftops for the next week. That fire hadn’t been an accident, he knew. Higher ground is always safer when you don’t know who's after you, even if you have an idea. So, Alec slept on the King’s Own’s roof, safest place in the world. The worst thing Johnny could do was throw Alec in jail, well that wasn’t the worst thing, but the point stands.

 

It also allowed him to keep an eye on the palace, and Lord Raoul. Scorch was not amused at the rain, and told Alec so by screeching at him constantly. Alec was beyond tempted to bind him. Alec was also very very tempted to track down Cooper, and stab him repeatedly.

 

Alec stole through the lower markets, pickpocketing a few pieces of food, and gold. You can’t fight a good war if you’re starving. Lord Raoul caught Alec’s hand as it crept toward an apple.

 

“Alec,” the knight said cheerfully. “I was hoping to run into you again.” Raoul put the apple back on the farmer’s stand, and frogmarched Alec away.

 

“Goodbye, your lordship,” Alec said, trying to backstep. Raoul caught the boy, and swung him back round.

 

“Easy, lad, I just want to talk to you.”

 

“I’m not the one who burnt down the tavern,” Alec protested.

 

“I know, lad.” Lord Raoul fixed an eye on the boy. “Do you have a place to sleep?”

 

“Yes,” he said instantly.

 

“Out of the rain?”

 

“No.” The word was soft, barely audible. Raoul nodded.

 

“Alright, come on then.”

 

“Your lordship?”

 

“It would be remiss of me to let somebody stay out in the rain when they have helped me in the past.”

 

“I’m not a  _ pet _ , Your Lordship.” Raoul wondered if his title would ever stop sounding like an insult when it rolled off Alec’s tongue.

 

“I know. Just . . .for one night, alright. It’s first bell in the morning.”

 

“I can’t.”

 

“Please. You’re soaked to the bone, and you’re bleeding.”

 

It was true. Alec had accomplished the feat of hitting his head, cutting his fingers up. He was damp, bleeding, tired and hungry. He hung his head for a minute, and then nodded.

 

Scorch whistled at them both, mocking them.

 

“Come on, lad.” Raoul made sure that Alec walked half a step in front of him. Raoul wasn’t raised yesterday. Instead, he grew up around George Cooper and Alan of Trebond.

 

“I’m fine,” Alec protested hastily.

 

“Yes, that’s why you wrapped a piece of cloth around your head, and now it’s dripping blood.”

 

“Merely a flesh wound, your lordship.”

 

“Still, perhaps you should visit a healer.”

 

“Perhaps not.”

 

“You really do not like magic. Why?” Alec just shook his head. “Healer, and I will not interrogate you more this day.” Alec remained unconvinced. “Please.”

 

“Fine,” Alec grumbled.

 

“Good lad, come on.” Raoul sidled Alec into the courtyard that surrounded the Own’s stables and barracks. Raoul led the way to the Own’s healer, Matthew. Raoul pushed Alec into the healer’s office.

 

Alec nearly froze. His hands were shaking. Raoul pushed the boy further into the waiting area of the building. Matthew looked up from his desk.

 

“Sir?” he asked, looking at his lord’s friend.

  
  


“Alec hit his head,” the knight explained carelessly, but he caught Mathew’s eye, and tapped two fingers against his leg. 

 

Matthew nodded. A lot of people joined the King’s Own, some-most- didn’t like going to healers. It got bad enough that they were threatened with extra work and a trip to Neal of Queenscove. It was worse if they didn’t like magic.

 

“I’m Mathew,” the healer said, sticking his hand out. Alec shook it. “Has Lord Raoul been giving you much trouble?” the healer guessed accurately.

 

“He thinks I have a serious injury, when I’m really fine.”

 

“Yeah, he tends to worry a bit.” Matthew knew that Raoul does no such thing. “Still, why don’t I take a look, just to ease his mind, mmh?”

 

“I don’t-”

 

“Unless you’re seriously injured?” Matthew knew his way around people who clunked their head one too many times. Alec shook his head. “We’ll let you know when we’re done, sir.”

 

Raoul nodded, and Matthew steered Alec into one of the examination rooms. Scorch waited with Raoul.

 

“I’m fine, really,” Alec said hastily.

 

“Hmm, these rooms are sound-proofed. I am also a firm believer in healer-patient confidentiality.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes.” Matthew sighed and crossed his legs, leaning against the wall. “Can I please take a look at your injuries?”Alec glared at him, and backed away slowly. Matthew didn’t move, didn’t get angry. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. Please, you’re bleeding.”

 

“What- what are you planning to do?”

 

“Just bandages and alcohol.”

 

“No magic?” Ah, Matthew thought. He understood now. Luckily, Raoul had kept his word; Matthew didn’t have the Gift.

 

“No magic,” Matthew promised.

 

“You won’t tell anybody what I tell or show you?”

 

“Nor what I think about anything medical,” Matthew reassured. Matthew had rolled his sleeves up.

 

“Alright then.” Alec hopped up on the medical table. It was solid and metal.

 

“I’m going to undress your head, and rebandage it.” Matthew did exactly what he said he would. “You mind raising your shirt for me, lad?”

 

Alec did so, revealing parts of his chest. Matthew probed lightly at the lad’s chest. Alec had already wrapped his ribs with spare bits of cloth.

 

“I’m just going to cut these off, lad.”

 

“I’m fine,” Alec said hastily, jerking his shirt back down. The healer froze.

 

“Lad?” Alec shook his head. “Lass?” Alec nodded once, curtly.

 

  
“Does Raoul know?”

 

“No. Healer-patient confidentiality prevents you from telling him, yes?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“It’s just safer to be on my own if people think I’m a lad.”

 

“Alright. You know that my lord wouldn’t care if you were turtle-gendered?”

 

“I know, but the less people who know, the longer it will stay secret.”

 

“Fine, but I don’t like it,” the healer grumbled. “Will you let me look at your ribs  _ now _ ?”

 

“Fine, but I don’t have to like it.” Alec jerked his shirt off. Matthew wrapped Alec’s ribs, her ribs. He checked to make sure that she wasn’t binding her chest too tight.

 

“You should tell him.”

 

“And what would it change exactly? Nothing if he’s as good as he says.”

 

“He will find out.”   
  


“I know.” The thing was that the secret kept Alec safe from something far more dangerous than King Johnny or Raoul.

 

“And I suppose that you know best?” Matthew tied the bandage off. “Leg.”

 

“I do know best.” Alec rolled up his pant leg. It was bruised, but not broken.

 

“You should get a binder. Constant binding will end badly. Ice and soak your leg if you can. Gloves.” The healer finished up by bandaging Alec’s hands. They were littered with bone break scars. “How’d you break them?”

 

“I fell.”

 

“And smashed them on rocks?”

 

“I merely fell.”

 

“Do you feel any dizziness, trouble hearing, or nausea?”

 

“No, no more than usual.” Matthew raised his eyebrows, but Alec kept his mouth shut.

 

“Well,” Matthew said, leaning back finally. “You should live a long and healthy life as long as you stop falling.”

 

“Thank you.” Alec reached for his (he’d keep his pronouns, thank you very much) to pay the healer.

 

“Lord Raoul pays my hours, not you,” Matthew said firmly. “Come on, lad.”

 

Matthew would keep his word. Alec nodded, and led the way back to Raoul. The knight was sitting in a chair. Scorch was flapping around the room.

 

“Well?” the knight commander asked.

 

“He’ll live. Try to keep off that leg, and make sure that he’s not doing heavy labor,” the healer instructed.

 

“Sounds good. Thank you, Matty.” Raoul shook his friend’s hand.

 

“Make sure that he comes back in a week or so,” was all he said as he showed him to the door. “And watch the binding,” he yelled after the pair. It kept his lord from asking too many questions.

 

“I told you it would be fine,” Raoul told Alec. He hadn’t said anything of the sort.

 

“Where are you taking me, your lordship?”

 

“The rooms across from mine are empty. I figure you can stay there tonight, and we can figure the rest out tomorrow.”

 

“I’m not-”

 

“-This isn’t charity, lad. It’s a debt, and being a good person.”

 

“It’s isn’t one of those ‘being good to your underlings marks a true noble’ bullshit?”

 

“That’s not bullshit,” Raoul defended. “And watch your language.”

 

“Sorry, Sir Never-Swears,” Alec remarked saucily.

 

Raoul opened his mouth, but shut it again and snorted lightly. Alec looked at him warily, and nearly took a step away. Nobles don’t laugh when they’re made fun of, those are the rules.

 

Raoul showed Alec to his rooms.

 

“Mine’s through that door, which has a deadbolt that you can lock.”  Alec flashed a cheerful smile at him. “I would prefer you to stay at least until morning.”

  
  


“I don’t- thank you for the healer, your lordship.”

 

“But?”

 

“I do not want to stay here long, your lordship. Thank you for the offer.”

 

“You really do not like me, do you?”

 

“I think the problem, your lordship, is that I like you more than I should.”

 

“Hmm? That so?”

 

“Stop fishing for compliments.” Scorch whistled in Alec’s ear. “I should go to bed.”

 

Raoul nodded, and left. Alec checked the rooms over for hidden magic, but found none. He prepared to for bed, and quickly fell asleep from his exhaustion.

* * *

 

Raoul walked casually back down to Matty’s rooms. He knew that the healer would want a word about their new guest.

 

“So?” the knight asked the healer.

 

“Whoever fucked that kid up, did a right job of it.” Matty looked at his glass of water, and nearly wished for something stronger. “They made him afraid of magic, Raoul.”

 

“I know. Anything else you can tell me?”

 

“Not really, same things you know. His eyes seem to be bothering him a bit but I didn’t want to press it.”

 

“Damn.”

 

“I would watch out for the lad’s injuries. He seems the type to overdo it.”

 

“Same old, same old, huh?” The healer merely nodded.

 

“What do you plan to do?”

 

“Give him work, and hope he stays around long enough to tell me what he’s running from.”

 

“Solid plan. Are you going to tell his majesty?”

 

“No. Alec would catch on word, and run.”

 

“Smart lad.”

 

“Yes.” Raoul sighed heavily. “Thank you for your help.”

 

“Nobody should be afraid of magic.” Matthew had come from a good family. Raoul had hired him personally for his Gift, and his easy way with patients, especially those who don’t take kindly to being injured.

 

“I know. Goodnight, Matty.” Raoul left pondering his new friend. Mithros, he couldn’t even call the boy his ward, because he wasn’t. Raoul grimaced, and went for his bed.

 

Alec slept peacefully next door while Raoul tossed and turned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more y'all hit kudos, the more likely I am to continue it because it guilts me. It really does. I mean, I get that you can't keep hitting it and I'm gonna go away now.


	3. Chapter 3

Alec woke with a start. He lept out of bed. He had slept in nobles rooms! The boy scowled heavily at the disheveled sheets. This is nonsense, he told himself, staying with a lord like a nutter. Mithros, he should be on the next horse out of Tortall. Alas, he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave the Corus underworld in the state that it was currently in. Fuck George Cooper. Oh, if he ever had a chance to speak with that man, things would happen.

 

“Alec?” Raoul queried from the next room over.

 

“Still here, your lordship.” Raoul smirked at the bitterness in his voice.

 

“Mind if I come in?” Alec yelped, and checked his binding. Still good. You do not need to critique him for it; he knew the dangers well enough. It was binding or torture and a slow death. He’d take the binding, thanks.

 

Alec flung open the door, and met the knight’s eyes squarely. Raoul was wearing work trousers, and a canvas jacket. Alec had redressed in his old clothing. Raoul wasn’t stupid enough to question him, yet at least.

 

“When am I permitted to leave, your lordship?” Alec asked sarcastically. He had a habit of poking things with a stick, better they attack now than later, in his book.

 

“When I am sure that you are not going to live on the streets.” Alec grimaced. He knew the probability of his satisfying Raoul’s standards was very low. 

 

Raoul met the lad’s eyes with a practiced manner. Raoul was used to dealing with people that everybody else didn’t know how to deal with, his former squire was a shining example. Most of the horses that were trained for the Own, had been mistreated by their former masters. Matty used to have a substance abuse problem. The Own took most folk, because it was a dangerous job and people needed to have a certain temperament. Raoul debated in his head for a split second. Food first, then questions.

 

“Come on,” he told the lad. “Food is to be had in the Own’s mess.”

 

Raoul made damn sure that Alec ended up with twice Alec’s preferred amount, which is really half of what Alec needed, in Raoul’s opinion.  Raoul sat them both among the Own. It would do no good to remind Alec of his status. Several of the men watched Raoul for a moment, and went back to scarfing down breakfast. It was the Midwinter holidays, meaning that they were happy to be home for two weeks. Most of them knew better, at this point, to question their Commander’s  brain.

 

Alec put his utensils back down. He didn’t touch the meat. Raoul half nodded to himself, a lot of his men didn’t eat meat after the krachon had them.

 

“Finished, lad?” Raoul led Alec out through the mess, and back to his rooms. The knight kicked a chair to Alec, and sat down.

 

“Your lordship?” Alec asked politely.

 

“Are you a threat to Tortall?”

 

Well, Alec thought, that was incredibly blunt. “Probably not. I don’t like the king, but I don’t particularly feel like going to the trouble of killing him, and having to deal with somebody of equal or greater than stupidity.”

 

Raoul nodded. “That’s fair.”

 

“Are you going to tell the king on me?”

 

“No. His granddaughter is safe, thanks to you. If I told him, he would have to arrest you.”

 

“Yeah, good times in the future, huh?”

 

“What caused the tavern to burn down?”

 

“Some folks have been nasty since the Rogue went clean. Them left out in the cold don’t take kindly to my fussing in their affairs,” Alec lied smoothly. Raoul didn’t catch on.

 

Raoul steeled his mind. “Are they going to do it again?”

 

Alec shook his head politely. “I do not know, your lordship.”

 

“Lad,” the knight snapped out.

 

Alec had read the note. There was a reason why he wanted to get out of town. It wasn’t really the same people who went for Johnny’s family. It was the same people who came for her a year ago. It would be the same people who would come for her in three days. And Alec knew better than to put that on Raoul of Goldenlake.

 

“I doubt they will come for Roald again.” They had a better target.

 

“Why not?” Alec raised his eyebrows at the man. He didn’t believe Goldenlake could be this stupid. “You gave him a better target.”

 

“No, I gave the Whisperman some time to get his shit together, because I gotta tell you, your lordship, your lovely kingdom will rot soon.”

 

“What?”

 

“George Cooper? The ex-Rogue left a lot of loose ends.” Alec sighed at Raoul’s confused face. “They were spies from Scanra, not your average rushers. Personally, I try to avoid that in kingdoms.”

 

“But they’re not a threat?”

 

“Not to good ol’ Johnny.”

 

“You really do not respect me, do you?”

 

“Exactly the opposite, your lordship. I don’t respect a king who can’t even protect his own family. I’d be on my way, if it was all the same to you, your lordship.”

 

“Traitorous talk.”

 

“Do I look like I care, your lordship? I’ll be on my way if it’s all the same to you.”

 

“Do you have work wherever you’re going, Alec?”

 

“Do you ever stop being nosey, your lordship?”

 

“There’s work in the Own’s stable, if you want.”

 

“I don’t-” Alec cut himself off.

 

Raoul stared at the lad. “Yes?” he asked patiently. “Tack repair for a few days, that’s all. No walking. Food and board, but no wage for just a few days.”

 

“I don’t know, your lordship.”

 

“I would be the only one you would deal with. No magic,” Raoul murmured with a grin.

 

“Just for a few days.”

 

“Just until you get your feet under you.”

 

“Alright,” Alec finally conceded.

 

“Come on, we should go see Diane, and get your friend checked out as well.”

 

Alec didn’t protect. He and healers was one thing, Scorch being hurt . . .well, he’d grown close to the little guy. Raoul wished that Alec would take better care of himself. The lad reminded him of Alan.

 

“Hello,” a man said, pulling open the door after Raoul had knocked. “Come back for my wife, eh?”

 

The mage, Numair Salmalin, froze at the sight of Alec. Alec flinched back slightly. Raoul kept still, watching the mage with a furrowed brow.

 

“Namair?” the knight asked softly. They’d fought wars together; Raoul knew better than to approach a mage when they looked that white in the face.

 

“Who?” the mage asked, focused on Alec.

 

“It’s nothing,” the lad said, shaking his head hastily. “Happened a long time ago.”

 

“What?” the knight asked. There was only so many vague responses a man could take.

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Alec said hastily. Numair raised his eyebrow.

 

tbc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a couple of months. I went to university, pursuing of all things, a physics degree. So, updates are going to be slow to say the least. I'm up to chapter 9. It's died off a little bit, but I'm trying to please be patient and comment often. If you comment enough, I will write more because it makes me feel guilty. So yeah.


	4. Chapter 4

“What?” Raoul repeated, his tone still pleasant. His hands were clenched at his sides.

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Alec insisted, glaring at the mage. “It happened a long time ago, and I’m fine.”

 

“It happened about a year ago,” Numair refuted firmly.

 

“Still perfectly fine.” Numair look angrier at that.

 

“What did they do?”

 

“It seriously does not concern you,  _ mage _ .” The two men stiffened at that.

 

“”Fine, tell me when it gets worse.”

 

“Don’t touch me, and it will be fine.” Alec marched past the witch, and into his living room.

 

“What?” Raoul asked softly to the mage.

 

“I’m sure it’s nothing. I must have been mistaken.” Numair shook his head.

 

“Numair?” the knight asked softly.

 

“Somebody hurt your friend badly, with magic.”

 

“How bad?”

 

“I don’t know. It’s not,”-Numair sighed- “Good. It’d go easier if he’d talk to me. Watch him, Raoul. It’s not going to be pretty when he freaks out.”

 

“Thank you,” the knight said at last.

 

Numair looked like he had gained thirty years in the past three minutes.

 

Alec was already inside, talking with Diane.

 

“Scorch is doing fine,” she told the men. “Should start talking in a few days or so.”

 

“Thank you,” Alec said. He rubbed his hip absentmindedly. 

 

It worked for a time. Scorch started talking, saying things like  _ food _ to Alec mentally. Numair avoided the boy, and Raoul watched as his tack was repaired. Alec kept his head down. Scorch couldn’t say anything beyond a few words, and Alec said less than that. 

 

The only minor glitch was one time that an Own soldier had surprised Alec in the mess. He stepped too close behind the boy and Alec had reacted by flipping a 200 pound man over his head. Luckily, the man thought he had tripped and slipped on the stone floor. The only glitch was that Alec knew that Raoul had been looking in his direction. However, Raoul kept his mouth shut for the moment, because not many people want to pursue the train of thought that a kid could kill a highly trained soldier.

 

It took  three days for the local boys’ fear of Raoul’s protection to wear off. They cornered Alec behind one of the Own’s stables.

 

“Oi, peasant boy!” A black-haired boy yelled after Alec. Alec was wise enough to ignore him. “I’m talking to you, ya rutting gutter trash, born of a rat.” Well, that seemed a little extreme, but nothing he couldn’t ignore.

 

“I don’t know what his lordship’s thinking, taking in a bastard like ya.”

 

“That’s cause he’s a fag.” Alec stopped short. The boys smiled; they had him. “He fucking you on the side?” Alec’s eyes flashed dangerously. Where he came from, there is nothing wrong with being gay. Stefan, the head hostler, looked up from nearby, but said nothing. Stefan thought that Alec could handle himself.

 

“Mind repeating that?” Alec asked carelessly, still not turning around. He placed the tack down carefully.

 

“Goldenlake’s fucking you. It has to be the only reason to keep you around.”

 

Alec turned around, only to be slugged in the face by one of the guys. He didn’t fall, at first. He threw a sloppy punch and went down on the next one. He stayed down, letting the other boys whale on him. It wasn’t worth it to fight back, not right now.

 

Raoul came out of his office when he heard Stefan knocking on his door.

 

“Some lads are gonna kill Alec.” Raoul swore under his breath. The boys were being held off by Scorch, who was circling over their heads.

 

“Get Matty,” Raoul told Stefan. The hostler left at a run. Alec turned on his side to spit out  some blood. Raoul strolled toward the commotion. “All of you, sit the fuck down and stay there.” All five boys sat down. Alec was a tiny thing; Raoul was a fully trained knight, and even though he was teddy bear most of the time, he won wars.

 

Alec carefully got up, keeping an arm under his opposite shoulder, clutching at his ribs. Scorch alighted on the stall wall next to him. His face was swelling up, along with his entire body. He should’ve taken the loss.

 

Stefan re-entered the stable with Matty and the palace guards. The guards quickly took the bullies into custody. Alec stayed standing throughout the proceedings, keeping a five foot minimum distance from anybody else. Scorch helpfully screeched at anybody who tried to violate the space issue.   
  


“Come on,” Matt said to Alec. “You could do with some ice on your face.”

 

Alec nodded, but didn’t move. It would end of two ways, they would either get Baird and Numair or he would leave. There really wasn’t a third option, unless he wanted to end up in jail. He knew better. The only good thing that’d come out of this was that he had some time to get away from Raoul.

 

“Lad?” Raoul asked. 

 

Alec shook his head and left the stable. He quickly collected his bags. One of the boys had whispered a threat in Alec’s ear. The boys didn’t know who they were working for and Raoul would never take the threat seriously. The boy left, slipping out of the palace, side-stepping the Knight Commander.

 

“I need to leave,” Alec stated firmly.

 

“You won’t make it a day.” Alec didn’t bother to disagree.

 

“Be that as it may, I’m leaving.”

 

“Because you got into a fight?”

 

Alec grimaced. “Tell Cooper to clean his act up. Thank you for the work, Your Lordship.”

 

He didn’t want to leave. He liked Raoul better than he should. On the other hand, sticking around would get Goldenlake killed.

 

“Lad,” Raoul tried. “You’re hurt.”

 

Alec shook his head. “Yes, but I’ll be fine.” Raoul blocked him. “Look either arrest me or get out of my way.”

 

“I could,” Raoul began but cut himself off.

 

“I don’t why you have such an attachment to me, Your Lordship, but move out of my way or arrest me.”

 

Raoul smartly moved out of the way.

 

Alec left, shouldering his bags and ignoring the man who had tried to help. Scorch glared at the boy but followed irritably, muttering mentally about stupid human children.

 

They slept on rooftops, in back alleys, keeping a careful eye out for blue uniforms.

 

In all honest, Alec’s life probably would’ve been simpler if he had just let the King die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, comment and I update because I feel bad. So to reward everybody, here's another chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

It was the midwinter festival. Everybody was out in their best fanfare to reassure everybody that the war was going well. Alec watched from the rooftop, sitting with his legs crossed. Scorch sat on his knee, muttering to himself.

 

“Easy,” Alec shushed him. 

 

He squawked mentally, “Were you ever going to tell him about his little blackmail trouble?”

 

“No.”

 

“He’s a knight, a protector.”

 

“Yeah, and I have-well-it doesn’t matter anymore.”

 

“Denial-what a useful tactic.” Apparently, phoenixes developed a vocabulary fast.

 

“And what’s your suggestion?”   
  


“Tell the truth.” 

 

“That’s the worst-” An arrow went through the King’s shoulder. “Find him,” Alec growled, and scurried down the building wall. His feet hit the street, and he pulled out a few knives as he pulled up his cloak hood. He’d pulled up a strip of cloth over the bottom of his face so only his eyes remained. He looked like a soldier from the Yamani Islands. Cooper’s people were already in the crowd but it was too late.

 

Alec slipped through the crowd, while Scorch shrieked mentally. Alec caught Cooper in disguise and pointed him to a roof top.

 

“Archer came from there,” Alec murmured.

 

“Lad?” the man asked but Alec vanished into the crowd. Numair trapped the man even though Numair was 200 feet away. Alec couldn’t help the shiver that passed down his spine.

 

There was a second archer.

 

Three arrows went through the King’s chest and the world descended into chaos.

 

Alec swore furiously in three languages and pulled His Majesty out of the wreck of bodies. The crowd mobbed and the Own fought to hold them back. Most of the nobles were either cowering or fleeing. Rushers swarmed the party and the Own were unable to tell between helpful samaritans and assassins. In the confusion, Alec wrapped an arm around His Majesty’s body and dragged him away. Alec forced him into an alley and got them the hell out of the inner part of Corus. Alec stopped for a second to consider his rescue. The man had four arrows in him: two in his left shoulder, one in his right calf, and another in his right thigh. Skills.

 

Alec slipped by Cooper again. “I’m talking him to your home. Be there.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I’m tiny and nobody’s going to stop a boy helping his father.” George tossed Alec his dirty cloak, and Alec wrapped it around the King’s shoulders.

 

“I’m trusting you, lad.”

 

“Ah, trust me, I’m as crooked as they come, Your Highness.” Cooper nodded once. 

 

Alec mentally shook his head. Mithros, trusting him with that accent as well. Gods, he could’ve been a very clever assassin. Luckily, Alec was just a moron.

 

Alec helped the King forward. He stanched the bleeding with spare cloths.

 

He stopped at a nearby stable and acquired two horses. He planned to return them, really he did. One was a grey roan without a saddle and only a halter to fashion into a bridle. The other was a brown. Alec took a moment to quickly saddle up the brown. The brown stood patiently as Alec hoisted the King onto the brown and tied him to the saddle. Alec mounted the roan after he had fashioned a lead to keep hold of the brown and a bridle for the roan. They took off at a steady canter. Both horses were fit and the stable and, cheerfully enough, belonged to the Messenger Corps. Alec trusted that the horses were used to steady night rides and had been ridden under worse conditions. 

 

He could use a little luck at this point, he thought.

 

The King had kept his mouth mostly shut up until this point.

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“Pirate's’ Swoop, where else?”

 

“That’s a day’s ride at least.”

 

“Well, we need you out of the city until the assassins are handled, and this is the fastest way.”

 

“I’ll seem weak.”

 

“No, you’ll seem smart. I can tell you that these arrows are Scanran. They’ll send mages next, wouldn’t be surprised if they were already at the palace gates, pretending to be stable boys,” Alec finished on an ironic note.

 

“How do you know?”

 

“It’s what I’d do. We can ride through the night. Full moon tonight.” Alec heard thundering behind them and eased the horses up. He pulled another knife and prayed that it was just Cooper. It was.

 

The thief rode up, next to Alec.

 

“What’s your name, lad?” Alec hadn’t removed his mask.

 

“Johnny.” A common, ironic name. “Best not to talk in the open.”

 

They rode on in silence. They stopped once to rest the horses and for Alec to check his bandaging.

 

“Will that keep until the Swoop?” Cooper asked. Alec nodded.

 

“Painful, but he’s going to require surgery and this isn’t a safe place to do it.” Alec grimaced. “He should make it. He’s not bleeding badly. He’s a risk for infection, but we can burn that out without much trouble.”

 

Cooper nodded and they remounted.

 

They made it around dawn. They slipped into the Swoop to little fanfare. Cooper’s men knew what a sight like that meant: discretion. The Lioness wasn’t in either. The town had settled down for winter and some of the Swoop’s residents had gone to Corus for the festivities. It was an empty place. Alec shivered. The King was near death and there was nobody to thrust the responsibility upon.

 

Alec wasn’t a knight, he wasn’t the one with valor in his veins. He ran because bad things happened when he stood and fought. The problem is that there will come a day when he can’t run, when he has to to stand his ground. This was the start.

 

“Do you have a sick room?” Alec asked, leaving the horses in the care of the hostlers. Cooper nodded. They carried the King to the healer’s rooms.

 

“Maude’s in Corus. She’s our only healer.” Alec swore heavily. “We have a midwife in the town, but-”

 

“No need. I have enough training to keep him alive. Table.” They got him on the table, laying him on his good side. The King tried to roll off it, sweating, feverish. “Easy,” Alec murmured, gentling his usual hatred of nobles. “Easy.” Cooper held the man still.

 

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

 

“Yeah, unfortunately. Keep him still as you can.” Alec tossed off his cloak, pulled off his mask and rolled up his sleeves. “You got running water, good, good.”

 

“Numair fixed it last summer.”

 

“Yay,” Alec muttered. He gathered supplies and washed his hands with soap and water, drying them with cloths. Cooper started a fire in the pit and lit some candles.“Cut his shirt and pants off if you can.” Cooper did. “And wash your hands.”

 

“How did you learn-?”

 

“Ma was a healer. Alright, Jon, mind if I call you ‘Jon’? This is going to hurt. Try to pass out. I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go using magic if I don’t have to.”

 

“Why?” he grunted.

 

“I’ve not had the best of luck with it lately, don’t want to set you on fire. Well, I do, but I won’t so no worries. Try to relax.” Alec glanced at Cooper and the thief nodded.

 

Alec started working.

 

tbc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sad thing will be when I actually have to get back to working, and can't just keep posting a finished chapter a day. But that seems like a problem for myself in a couple of days.


	6. Chapter 6

It took over an hour to patch the King up.

Alec cut the arrows up, burned out infection with magic and sewed the man up. Cooper held the King down and didn’t blanche at the sight of blood. The King trembled but tried to keep as still as he could, even in his fevered state. Alec’s hands didn’t shake, but he wished they did. They were used to this, this pain, this use of magic. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

They moved him to a bed, and covered him in blankets.

“He’ll live,” Alec said simply, washing his hands off. He washed the needle, and sterilized it with a candle.“I’ll have to do more for his infection on a later date but he’ll probably make it, lucky bastard. Got anything stronger than water in this place?”

Cooper handed him a bottle of beer. Alec drained a third of it in one go.

“Alright yourself?” Cooper asked. 

Alec shook his head. He sat down on the surgical table, and tugged his shirt off. He’d gotten knifed by some passing rusher. Cooper stared at the binding.

“Come on,” Alec muttered. “You’re married. I’m sure that you’ve seen a girl before.” 

She took another swig from the bottle, and poured some on her wounds, hissing. She sewed them up, glaring at the skin like how dare it rip in such a fashion, the way women glare at uncomfortable shoes.

“You’re that lad of Raoul’s aren’t you?” Alec looked up at that. Cooper rolled his eyes. “Nobles love to talk.”

“Ha,” She muttered. “Wouldn’t know anything of that, would you, Rogue.”

“How?” he snapped.

“I lived in Scanra for a time. I knew of the Whisperman, who helped children refugees across the river. I put some of the pieces together.”

“And you are?”

“Merely a hedge-witch’s daughter.”

“That was strong magic.”

“Hmm, was it?”

“You’re not even tired from burning out the infection, are you?”

“More than you think.” Alec shrugged back on her shirt and tried to stand, only to stagger. “Much more, apparently.” She grimaced.

Cooper steered her into a chair. “Why hide it from Raoul?”

“Because, I don’t practice magic if I can help it. My ma was killed for it. I figured that a thief can keep his mouth shut and Johnny boy will be unlikely to remember much because of his wounds.”

“And you’re planning to disappear by nightfall, I take it?”

“Yep. Figure I’ll keep the horse for all my expenses and personnel injuries and be over the border in a few days. A thief can only keep his mouth shut for so long.”

“Raoul said you had a bone to pick with me?”

“Yeah. The Court has fallen into disrepair, I heard it from some folk in Corus. Not everybody turned spy and folk have been hurting people. Take care of it before somebody takes care of it for you.”

“For a witch’s daughter, you talk big.”

“Hmm, magic-drunk, I thought you married a powerful sorceress.” Alec’s eyes slipped closed against her better instincts.

“Get some sleep,” Cooper said at last. “I can keep watch for a bit.”

Alec shook his head in negative but he soon gave up the fight for consciousness.

George stared at the bo-lass. He’d seen scars like that, ones that were not merely on the surface but went bone deep, soul deep. He had the Sight after all, but he couldn’t see her magic. He had only the vague impression that it was a dark, silver blue with flecks of night blue.

He rubbed at his face.

Alec didn’t like the King, he could tell, and she had sought help from a spy. She hadn’t turned to the palace guards or the Own. She had secrets alright, ones that would endanger the whole kingdom, George Cooper could tell.

 

Alec woke and rolled to her feet. She, now. Alec’s hands twitched: two people knew her gender. Damn. She really really needed to be on her way out of this kingdom.

“How is he?” She asked.

“Still feverish, no bleeding.”

“Hmm.” Alec ran her hands over the King’s bandages, checking their fit. He grimaced in his sleep. “Has he woken?”

“No. Drifted in and out a few hours ago.”

“Good.” 

Alec checked the shelves in the back of the room. They had some dried oatmeal in a tin. Alec started making breakfast, using a kettle she’d found, the fire, oatmeal, and some water. It was bland stuff.

Cooper cleaned the table and she doled out the oatmeal into three wooden bowls. She sat next to the King and shook his shoulder. He woke lazily. Alec barely hid her disgust. She got him to eat some of the bland shit in the bowl. Cooper watched.

“You can kip off if you need.”

“What?”

“Sleep,” Alec clarified. Cooper stared at her before beginning the task of making coffee. She smirked lightly as he stumbled from sitting in one spot for a while. He handed her a mug of the hot liquid. She took a sip: it was dark bitterness, drink of the gods in other words.

“Aren’t you even still tired from all that magic?” he grumped at her.

“You’re just old, Cooper.”

“George.”

“Hmm?”

“My name. I figure that if you don’t earn the right to call me by my first name by helping protect the king, nothing does.”

“Well then,” Alec murmured. “Cooper it is.” He mocked glared.

“Raoul told me of your issue with titles.”

“Well, if you being the Spymaster wasn’t a secret . . .” He stared. “Come on, it’s obvious. The Rogue stops work when Jonny boy needs a spymaster. Come on, like Alanna the Lioness would marry a boring husband anyway.”

“I thought you were a witch’s daughter. What’s your actual name?”

“Alec, and yes I am a witch’s daughter. Well, a minor witch. She used mostly herbs.”

“How is your Gift-”

“Woah now, I don’t have a Gift, just some Healin’.”

Cooper stared at her. That was one of stupidest things he’d heard since he heard a soldier say that the Scanran War would be short.

“How’s your magic?”

“I’m fine.” Thankfully the King opened his eyes before Cooper could start something.

“Where am I?” he asked after swallowing.

“I’ll be leaving,” Alec said hastily, trying to back out of the room. 

Cooper caught her arm and she accidently zapped him. Cooper snatched his hand back, rubbing at the wrist. Alec froze for a second but then tried to move away a second time. Cooper caught her at the elbow, carefully keeping her shirt between their skin.

“We won’t have another healer for days. He is going to need your help.”

“It’s easy. Keep infection done with some Fireweed, help him to the privy, and keep the wounds clean. An infant could do it.”

“And what happens if the assassins come here?”

Alec sighed heavily. “You used to be a king in your own right. Act like it.”

“Please?” Cooper asked. “I won’t stop you leaving when he can defend himself.”

“When he can stand and walk around this room, I am gone if not before. I leave the moment Numair Saliman or any other Black Robes show up.”

“Fine,” Cooper growled. “But you call me by my first name.”

“Fine,” Alec snapped out. She turned back to the King. “Pirate’s Swoop,” she told him. “You’re safe. I cleaned out your wounds, no signs of infection, you should be able to leave in a week or two.”

“Easy, Jon.” George placed a steady hand on the man when he tried to get up. 

“Thayet?”

“I don’t know. There’s been no news.”

“A friend of mine should be back soon and he should have news.” Scorch had stayed behind to gather news.

“And you are?” the King asked.

“Alec. I don’t like you, and I’ll be on my way as soon as I can, King.” Alec sat back down irritably and sipped at her coffee. George smiled.

“I could have you imprisoned.”

“Yes, but then who would keep you from dying? George has reliably told me that he can’t do it.” 

Alec gently stripped his sheets and checked over his wounds. The King hissed weakly. George kept his hand on the King’s shoulder. At least he didn’t struggle. They helped him use the chamberpot.

“Can you give me anything for the pain?”

“Yeah.” Alec feed him some herbs. He coughed horribly. Alec patted him on the back, forcing his lungs to move. He swallowed. He fell back asleep. 

She gripped his hand tightly. She fed him a little bit of her magic. He flinched back, even asleep, but she kept hold of him and he didn’t wake. She braided her magic carefully, delicately, into his so he could feel no difference.

She broke her hand off, along with the tiny rope of magic. She slumped in the chair, but the king did look better. He had grown less pale.

George kept his own counsel and stayed silent on the matter.

tbc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I change pronouns based on how Alec is identifying at the moment. Genderfluid is the word this chapter. Sorry for any confusion, but I always thought Alanna could’ve been more interesting.
> 
> So, I had my first uni exams. And then winter break and I forgot to update for a bit. And I didn't know how I wanted to work the story for a moment, but I'm getting ideas so I'm back to updating. And I'm up to 10. So. Welcome back to fresh hell to everybody coping with university or life.


	7. Chapter 7

Scorch showed up around noon, floating in through a window and settling on the King’s bedpost. Irony, phoenixes love it. Alec kept watch. George was asleep in a spare chair.

 

“Any news?” the King asked.

 

“Yes,” Scorch spoke somewhat out loud. He projected his thoughts into others’ minds. “The Queen is fine. Seven dead, thirteen injured.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Alec glared at the royal. “Don’t mention it.”

 

“Why do you hate me?”

 

“I don’t hate you. I’m worried because I know what power does to people who started out as good.”

 

“That seems like it’s not me.”

 

“Yeah, probably.” Not. He tried to get up again. “Seriously, all you’re going to accomplish is proof that you can fall on the floor.” He laid back down. “Smart move.”

 

Alec stood and paced the room, glaring at sleeping George. He snored convincingly.

 

“Fuck off,” she muttered cheerfully.

 

“I have a wife,” George protested.

 

“Hey now, masterbation is fine for everybody.” The King stared. Alec rolled her eyes. Her mother was a healer.

 

“That’s-”

 

“Do Scanrans talk about that in polite society?” the King asked weakly.

 

“I don’t think that this counts as polite society.”

 

“Sir,” a soldier called from outside the door. “Your wife and Numair are here.”

 

“Thanks,” George called back.

 

Alec blinked at them. “And I will be gone since I am no longer the only healer here. Nice to meet you. Bye.”

 

She tried to leave, grabbing her pack, touching George’s arm and leaving the room only to run face first into Numair. He caught her by the arm, preventing her fall but touching skin to skin. They both froze. He let go and she took a step back. She rubbed her arm.

 

She had been careful not to use magic in front of the King when he was awake. She took a few steps back.

 

“Still nothing?” Numair asked.

 

“Yes. Sorry to run into you again.”

 

“Can I please just take a look at you?”

 

“No,” Alec said firmly. She sighed. “You won’t find anything that hasn’t been found already.”

 

“By who?”

 

“People. I’m leaving. Have a good day.” Numair caught her with skin to skin contact again. He didn’t drop his hand.

 

“Please?” he asked. She shook her head. She glared at him.

 

“Fine. I used to have magic. I did something to break it. I don’t use it unless I have to because it causes extreme pain.”

 

“That’s why you haven’t magicked me while I’m awake,” the King muttered. He was leaning against George.

 

“Yeah, because it would’ve felt like I was setting you on fire.”

 

“Only because you can’t control it,” Numair cut in. Alec laughed darkly.

 

“What makes you think I do?”

 

“You like not being able to use your magic?”

 

Alec merely nodded and pushed past the men. Between all of them, they thought they had it solved: the great mystery. Well here’s a hint, it doesn’t matter. It didn’t matter if she ever magicked again because she wouldn’t. The past few weeks were the exception that proved the rule.

 

She saddled her roan. She was goddamn right to take the horse. Cooper could spare a few nobles for her saving the King’s life. She figured she’d name him Ranger and call the score settled.

 

George followed after he’d shoved Jon into Numair’s arms.

 

“You could work for me.” Alec said nothing. “Maude’s getting old and Alanna isn’t always around.” 

 

Alec chuckled as she strapped on saddlebags and filled them with a few apples and some of her pack. She swung up into the saddle. Ranger snorted but stood peacefully. She looked down on George with a glare.

 

“I am not going to work for you, but thanks for the offer.”

 

“Look, either you’re a threat to the crown which means I can’t let you leave or . . .” In defense of George’s lack of interrogation techniques, he hadn’t slept well in days and was overworked.

 

“Look, either arrest me or move out of my way.”

 

“Guards!” George called over his shoulder.

 

“You’re kidding, right?”

 

“I don’t bluff.” Guards came from every direction. “Either you are a danger that needs to be arrested or according the Mage’s Code, you need to be trained.”

 

“Wrong on both accounts, because I want to leave the kingdom. Two days from now, I will no longer be your king’s problem and therefore none of it matters.”

 

“You know that’s not how it works.”

 

“Please dismount,” one of the guard’s yelled. Alec stayed where she was.

 

“You can’t,” Alec whispered.

 

“I can,” George said softly. 

 

Alec swallowed. The funny thing about thieves, they don’t bluff. They lie, cheat, and steal, but they don’t bluff. Alec got off Ranger.

 

“When Numair tests me for magic, actual magic, not just a hedge witch’s gift, then I’ll stay.”

 

“Alright then. We’re good here,” George called to the guards. They muttered but left. Numair was already there, leaning against the stable wall. Alec swore silently. She was trying to stall.

 

“Let me see both of your hands.” 

 

Alec shuddered slightly, but took off both of her gloves. He gently clasped them by the palms. The air sparked. Blue and black light poured from their hands. George took a step back. Alec was shaking like she expected a blow and Numair’s eyes were tight. He let her hands go gently. Alec stayed where she was. It was the first time when her magic didn’t hurt in a long time.

 

“I can teach you how to feel that,” Numair said calmly. There were ashes on the ground.

 

“I don’t want to learn magic.”

 

“Mage’s Code says you have to. You have a magic level above 5.0 so you have to learn.”

 

“Well that’s a stupid rule.”

 

“Do you want to go to the Mage Court and have them declare it?”

 

“I know you think you’re saying words, but I think you’re making it up at this point.”

 

He raised an eyebrow at Alec. “You know better.” She grit her teeth. “According to the Code, you must apprentice with a mage for a year and a day. Have you ever apprenticed?”

 

“Once,” she said. “It did not end well.” She glared at Numair. “The apprenticeship lasted for three years, therefore I am not your problem. The Code has been fulfilled.”

 

“Fine. Conjure a fire in the palm of your hand.”

 

“What?”

 

“To show that you have obtained adequate control.”

 

Alec chuckled. “I healed the King. I think I have demonstrated ‘adequate control’.”

 

He raised his eyebrow again. Alec scowled. She held out her hand but could only conjure smoke. Slowly, ever so slowly, a tiny blue fire grew in the palm of her hand. She grimaced and it flickered and died.

 

“There,” she snapped. Numair wasn’t fooled. She was terrified.

 

“I can report you to the Court,” he said almost gently. She glared. It was going well, they could tell.

 

“Yeah and I could light your ass on fire.” Alec conjured large blue flames in the palms of both of her hands. They danced around, chasing themselves. She dropped the magic, shaking it off like a wet rain.

 

“And you were never trained?” Numair asked. Magic like that wasn’t heard of. Not without spells and words of power.

 

“I was. Just not according to the Code really.” She met his eyes before looking away hastily. “Dark magic. I left as soon as I could and came here.”

 

Everybody knew that wasn’t the whole story but they also knew it was the closest they were going to get for the time being.

 

“Alright,” Numair said at last. “I could teach you to control it better, to heal better.”

 

“In exchange for what?”

 

“Nothing. It is my duty as a mage to teach.”

 

“Really?” she asked sarcastically.

 

“Really. Ask George or the King, it is my duty to teach.”

 

“Fine,” she said at last. “But don’t expect much or anything. And I won’t fucking service you or the King.” She glared at George. He raised his eyebrows, but kept his mouth shut. These were Mage affairs after all. George smiled after a moment. Alanna all over again.

 

“Right,” Numair said finally, very carefully not falling into the trap. “First thing first, I want to heal your injuries. Let’s put the horse back and go inside.”

 

Alec did as she was told. Scorch cooed at her from a wall. Of course he liked this plan, the bastard. She followed him all the way back into the healer’s rooms, mumbling under her breath all the while. Numair couldn’t help but smile. His last apprentice became his wife; it was going to be wonderful seeing what happens to his new one.

 

tbc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right now, I'm trying to post after I finish a chapter. Classes still suck ass. I'm in the midst of Calc II. And I really want to thank everybody for their support in this fic. It’s been a long work in process, but yes, so thank you very much for being so supportive and understanding.


	8. Chapter 8

“I don’t like you,” Alec muttered, as Numair examined her shoulder and lower neck. The mage was careful to keep her covered.

 

“I know.” She hissed as he poked at the stitches. “Alright. You have steady hands.” 

 

Alec pulled her shirt back up. “I know.”

 

“Right,” George said. “Why do you think Scranra is behind it?”

 

“Why not them?” Alec asked.

 

“Fine,” he agreed. “But how do you know?”

 

“I recognized the first one. Erik. His wife Rosa will miss him.” Alec grimaced.

 

“And you knew him from where?”

 

“Doesn’t matter. He’s dead and he’s the first wave. Whoever’s next is going to be so much worse.”

 

“Yet, you thought it would be fine without you?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Jon?”

 

“Yes?” the king asked slowly.

 

“Up on the table.” He levered himself up. He had shrugged on a shirt. Alec had to cut it off. He was bleeding. George laid a large hand on the king, keeping him still while Alec fixed the stitches.

 

“I-” Jon hissed as Alec redid a stitch. “I thought your mom was merely a hedgewitch.”

 

“She was.” Numair raised his eyebrows. “I worked in an internment camp for a bit.”

 

“Really?” George asked.

 

“Yeah. Between my mom and the camp, I picked up some things.”

 

“And where did you find the time to become a ninja?” George asked.

 

“I am a young woman of many skills.” Alec patted Jon’s arm. “You’re good. _ Bedrest _ ,” she stressed.

 

“Seriously,” Jon said. “How did you learn to ninja?”

 

“There was a Dragon and he offered me a chance, but I already had the fire.” Alec looked at George and he nodded once. What Alec was, people didn’t speak of .

 

And Alec hung around for the next two days, generally making a nuisance of herself.

 

Alanna met her, standing guard outside the king’s door. “I’m Alanna,” the knight told her.

 

“I know, Lady Knight.”

 

George snagged her after the second night of her pacing around, jumping at shadows. “You have time to actually practice those skills?”

 

“What skills?”

 

“The ones the Dragon gave you?”

 

“Oh, those ones. Yeeeah, I don’t do that anymore.”

 

“Hmm. Come on, there nobody in the yard.” She shook her head. “There is a war on.”

 

“Fine,” Alec growled out.

 

George handed her ass four times before she woke up. She broke two of his fingers and dislocated his shoulder.  It took three seconds and a nice leg hook before he was on the ground.

 

“Sure you’re supposed to be in the mage business?”

 

“Sure you’re supposed to be in the noble business?”

 

“Yes,” he said curtly.

 

“Huh.” Alec pulled him off the ground and popped his shoulder back into place. She was also kind enough to heal his fingers.

 

“Why were you kicked out?”

 

“I had magic. They thought I could be taught not to use it as a crutch.”

 

“You don’t use it as a crutch.”

 

Alec smiled bitterly. “I used to. What happened to me, I couldn’t use magic for a long time. Still can’t without pain.”

 

“But you heal.”

 

“I was told by a young girl a long time ago to heal as much as I could.” She shrugged carelessly. “Seemed like good advice at the time.”

 

“Thank you for your help.”

 

“Yes, well, get your damn Court in order, Rogue.” Alec looked up sharply, smelling the air. “They come,” she whispered. “Get your men inside!” She roared at George.

 

She ran, weaving past soldiers, hurrying up to the wall walk, overlooking the sea. There were ships approaching. George ran up next to her.

 

“What are those?” he asked, stunned. “Scanran?”

 

“Yep. They have killing machines,” she said hopelessly.  Numair appeared on Alec’s right side. She grabbed his hand, lending him some of her power. “I can break the machines. Protect the king.”

 

George forked over a bow and a quiver of arrows. Alec quickly strung the bow. “Know how to use that, do you?” Other archers joined them, shooting flaming arrows at the wooden ship.

 

“Yep.” She shot an arrow at the ship. One down, thirty more to go. She hit three more before Numair bothered to show up. “You gonna do your magic thing?”

 

They ducked behind the wall as cannons hit the castle. George was cursing below. She knew she shoulda left before now. Scourge flew over the ramparts, screeching his head off, cursing the Scanrans out. Alec ducked back out and shot off another arrow.

 

Two killing machines waded through the lake, stinking to the bottom. They were undeterred. They made it to the wall and started climbing  _ up it. _ Shit. Alec slammed out from under her cover.

 

“You want to get a handle on that?” Numair shouted at her.

 

“Working on it.” 

 

She called up her magic. It slammed up, like a hurricane. Her feet rose an inch off the ground. She blasted the killing machines off the rocks with a flick of her hands. She grit her teeth and bore the pain. She could feel the kids dying. She clung on to consciousness, biting clean through her lip.

 

The killing machines fell off the rocks and hit the boat with a little bit of a push from her. She could feel blood pouring from her nose and her hands broke open. She didn’t hesitate. The ship tried to retrait. Numair blocked the sorcerers’ attempts. The ship slowed to a halt and then exploded under the force of Numair’s chanting.

 

Alec hit the floor, swearing heartily. Archers hit the floor as well. Numair landed on top of her. She cried out in pain. They got up slowly, covered in dust. Alec leaned against Numair. They peared over the wall. The ship was a burned piece of wreckage, all of the men were dead. Alec felt sick. She was shaking. She had to leave, tonight, if she could manage it.

 

She tore strips of cloth off her shirt and wrapped her hands in it. She went to the nearest injured. Broken leg. She splinted it with a bit of wood from nearby. She hurried around, healing where she could. Numair did the same. They were both careful not to get their blood in others’ wounds.

 

“Are you alright?” Numair asked, catching her by the arm.

 

“Yeah. You?”

 

“Yes.” They had three injured. A few had bad cuts but nothing that needed stitches. Alec helped move the three downstairs, along with the less injured. She watched Numair and Alanna work on them. She hauled water and smashed herbs together.

 

“Let me see your hands,” Numair ordered. She showed them freely. Numair hissed through his teeth. He wrapped them. “Leg?”

 

“Won’t take. Leave it alone.”

 

“It won’t take?”

 

“Curse scars. Magic doesn’t work on it.”

 

“Let me see.” She lifted her pants up slightly. She’d already bandaged the wounds. “Sit down.” She sat. He unwrapped the bandages. The scars raced and battled their way down her thigh, wrapped around her ankle and sprinting across her knee. They were oozing blood. He rewrapped her leg. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Not your fault. More mine than anything else.” She pulled the pant leg back down and hopped off the stool. “Is the King okay?”

 

“Yes. Is that really your first question?”

 

“Nah. You’re alive still, aren’t you?”

 

“Sweet,” he muttered suspiciously.

 

“I’m leaving tonight.”

 

“What?”

 

“They didn’t target the keep. They didn’t go anywhere near John, That was all a show for me and I’m out.”

 

“Running has worked so well for you in the past. Why was that a show for you?”

 

She grit her teeth, clenching her jaw. Gods damn it. There was a twitch under her right eye. This was not good, this was a whole lot of not good. Numair raised an eyebrow. She pushed it back down and buried it.

 

“No reason. I must be mistaken.”

 

“We’ve been over this, you are staying with me, unless you can provide a reason?”

 

“Alec?” And Raoul of Goldenlake had showed up. She froze.

 

“Are we really going to do this, now?”

 

“Are we?” Numair asked in a low voice.

 

“Why are they after you, Alec?”

 

“Because-” she tried to cut herself off but failed. “I made killing machines for the king, I was forced to.” Numair sat down. Heavily. “He cursed me so thoroughly that I can’t spell without pain. I didn’t break then.”

 

“What made you break, Alec?” Raoul’s voice was kind.

 

“He tortured a kid for hours until they died slowly.” Her hands started shaking and she rubbed her fingers together, trying to rid them of the copper color. “I could kill them and they would die peacefully. I had to make a choice.”

 

“Fucking Mithos on a stick,” Raoul breathed lowly. He didn’t blame the lass, none of them would.

 

“Yeah,” Alec said. “Some villagers found me after. I came to Tortall. I just wanted a low paying, shitty job, a peaceful life. Crooked gods above, I just wanted some peace, your lordship, maybe rack a few karma points. I never-those killing machines were mine. I doubt the king will find anybody stupid enough and powerful enough to manipulate like he did with me.”

 

“And before the king caught you?” Numair asked.

 

“Don’t ask me about it, please.”

 

Raoul opened his mouth and Alec bolted. She was out the door before they could say a word. She lept off the landing, rolled, and got to her feet. She had her bag in one hand and Ranger in the other before the others had cleared the first landing. She was gone before they made it to the front gate.

 

tbc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well. midterms. I've also been exhausted from the combination of MMA, family emergencies, and homework. So. Be kind. I've opened a document for chapter 10. Got nothing so far. So yeah. Thank you everybody for believing that I will complete this one day.


	9. Chapter 9

Alec headed north on the road to Scranra. It was the last place Numair would expect her to go, and she could handle herself. She could. She was not some damsel in distress. She rode at a light canter, taking back paths and staying off the roads whenever she could.

 

“This is a stupid plan,” Scourge told her.

 

“I know,” Alec told him.

 

“Right then, continue right along anyway.”

 

They hit a snag. Knight Keladry of Mendelian was heading back to the front. Alec swore. It was too late to avoid them. She trotted Ranger up to the party.

 

“You taking volunteers for the war?” she called, thinking fast.

 

Keladry looked up. “And you are?”

 

“Sara,” Alec answered. Female knight, she figured she might stand a chance. She dampened her magick.

 

She did. Kel would take anybody, especially if they were mobile and could ride. “Can you fight?”

 

“I shoot good,” Alec said cheerfully. “An’ I know my way ‘round a knife.”

 

“Well, alright then,” Kel said. “We’ll put you on the pay list when we get to camp. We’re about three days out. Go see Tobee-” she pointed to a young man on her right- “and let him make sure that your supplies check out.”

 

Sara followed and fell into line. The young man sidled his horse next to her. “I’m Tobe.”

 

“Sara.”

 

“You have a good horse.”

 

“Thank you. It’s my da’s. He died as a foot soldier in the war.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Sara shook her head. “How’s your equipment?”

 

“I have a good bow and knives. Ranger’s in good standing.”

 

“Alright. We’re making camp at nightfall.”

 

Sara nodded. She carried water and fetched food. She unsaddled horses and rubbed them down. She kept her eyes on the ground and didn’t make small talk with the others. Kel didn’t mutter a word in the girl’s direction. Neither did Tobe.

 

Sara bunked near the horses. Scorch had hidden himself a distance away from the party. Sara slept with a knife jammed in her boot. She didn’t stir. 

 

Sara continued to keep her head down for the rest of the journey to the fort. She tried. Kel, who was used to a mouse of a maid, watched her subtly. It was probably the same girl Raoul had been muttering about under his breath. She grinned. Her Knight Master had often found her good steady people, handing off the ones who needed a calmer hand. The Own were a little . . . confining at times.

 

Tobe put a hand on Sara’s shoulder, waking her from her clenched sleep. “Where are we going?” she asked, slipping free of the blankets.

 

“There’s a raiding party, thirty meters out from here. Shhh. Kel wants us to track them.” She nodded at once. The war catches up after all. Sara packed up her bedding and tied it to Ranger’s back, after saddling him. She’d stolen a light saddle from George.

 

Sara killed five people. She threw up quietly behind a bush, burying it. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and didn’t regret it. She mounted up, riding behind Tobe.

 

“Are you alright?” he asked, patting his horse lightly.

 

“Yes. I’m fine.” He nodded. They rode for a minute. “I-I killed men before. I just-”

 

“It’s always hard.”

 

“Yes,” she finally said.

 

Tob looked at her with such empathy in his eyes. “The day it is no longer hard is the day to worry.” 

 

Sara nodded. It was advice she’d heard before. She bumped Ranger to catch up to the rest of the soldiers. Scorch was still trailing the party at night, keeping an eye out for more raiders. Eventually they made it to Hope.

 

Kel barked out orders and everything was squared away in no time. Tobby quickly took Sara under his wing, convincing her to take a bunk close to the stables. Ranger was bedded down. And suddenly she had nothing to do. Her meager belongs were stored under her bed, and the other women were asleep. They had arrived after nightfall at the fort. Sara should also be a bed, but she couldn’t relax.

 

Sara couldn’t sit still. She walked around the fort. Kel was watching over from the ramparts. She couldn’t sleep either. Sara stole through the fort, lingering near the mess hall. There were thirty guards in there. Tobe waved her in.

 

“Come on, meet everybody!”

 

“Alright.” Sara was quickly thrust into drinking games with men. She put three of them under the table. She helped Tobby back to his bed at the end. Kel was still on the ramparts. Sara joined her.

 

“Can’t sleep?” Sara shook her head. It was close enough to the truth. “I don’t sleep the first night we’re all back. Too much to think about.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

They sat in calm silence. Eventually Sara left to sleep. Kel kept her watch, well, until Nealan of Queenscove came to take her home.

 

Sara was assigned to the stables. She had little to do with the men. It was mostly stable boys and Tobe. Kel stopped by to saddle Peachblossom herself. And Sara kept quiet.

 

Tobe pulled her away on the third week. “Have you had that cut seen to?”

 

“What cut?”

 

“The one that causes you to limp?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Alright.” He didn’t beg. He didn’t-Sara froze. She stopped walking. It was that simple.

 

“Alright?”

 

“Yeah. Alright.”

 

“I-thanks.” She leaned against him just for a moment, trying to breath in his calmness. Tobe didn’t wrap an arm around her, didn’t press back, just . . .held her weight for a minute.

 

They split off quickly after that, heading in different directions.

 

And Sara worked. She shoed horses and fed them. Their breathe was quiet. Men rarely came to the stables. Kel came often and looked over Peachblossom. She hid in Ranger’s stall, and tried to keep her head down.

 

As always, she made one mistake.

 

She was kind. She was always too kind. She watched Marie’s children for the cook. They played in the stable. Milo fell off the lofts, hitting the ground, snapping his hand. Sara ran forward, dropping her sewing to the ground. She wrapped her arms around the kid.

 

“Get one of the healers, now!” she ordered. The other ones ran off. Tobe came sprinting up. Sara clutched at the child. She was drenched in sweat as the child shuddered in pain. “Shhh, sh, it’s alright. Everything’s gonna be alright. Shhhhh.” The bones were sticking through the skin and the kid was terrified. “It’s alright, I got you.”

 

“Mithros above,” Neal swore. He wrapped Magick around them, stopping the blood, but he staggered to the ground. Sara could feel him weakening.

 

“Am I going to lose my hand?” the child asked, Milo, his name is Milo she forced herself to acknowledge.

 

“I don’t know,” was wrenched from her jaws because this was a child, and she was scared.

 

She is too kind.

 

Magick was pulled out of her and her arm swelled up. Bones pressed up against her skin. She was shaking and this kid was terrified. And so she hummed, rocking the kid gently as she could as the bones in his arm knit back together.

 

This was no king. Or soldier. It was a damn child.

 

It calmed down within seconds. Milo picked himself up, wiping his face clear of tears. His arm was whole. Sara let him go. She tore off the bottom of her shirt and wrapped it round her arm. The bones started sliding back into place. Milo ran into his mother’s arms. Neal stood up. Sara followed, still curled slightly around her arm.

 

Tobe stood near her right shoulder, guarding the injured limb.

 

“Do you want to explain?” Kel asked, having shown up some time.

 

“No.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“What!” Neal barked. Kel shook her head.

 

“Does your arm need attention?”

 

“It should heal.”

 

“But-no-I saw bones sticking out-” Kel kicked Neal in the leg. “Nevermind then.”

 

Tobe wrapped an arm around Sara. “I’ll walk you home.”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“I know. Let me worry for a minute, okay?” Sara nodded into his shoulder.

 

Kel and Neal watched them leave. “You know-”

 

“I know, Neal. She’s scared. Give her a break, okay?”

 

“But-”

 

“Please.” His eyebrows went up. He nodded once and for once his his life, held his tongue.

  
tbc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You ever think that Alec would be fine if people stopped asking her questions? Kel. Just Kel. Alright, so I have fun with alliteration. You would too.
> 
> So, I had issues with the idea that Alec would eventually become used to death. And that seems wrong. And I had ideas about the Yamis and the Shang. Tobe is literally the best. Like he is the Sam Wilson of this. Oh yeah, I’ll go there. Fight me.
> 
> I really want to thank everybody for their support in this fic. It’s been a long work in process, but yes, so thank you very much for being so supportive and understanding. And you're officially caught up to where I'm at on writing this. It's been a bad semester, and hopefully, the summer will be better on the updates.


End file.
